


A Certain Point of View

by RZZMG



Series: Hermione x Draco stories [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 5 Times, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dark, Angst, Drama, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Horror, Infidelity, Magical Creatures, Manipulation, Mating, Post-Hogwarts, Rape/Non-con Elements, Vignette, Werewolf Mates, Werewolf Sex, Werewolf!Draco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-14 21:39:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3426485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RZZMG/pseuds/RZZMG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco is an unfaithful husband, and Hermione is an unfaithful wife... but then, that depends entirely upon your particular point of view, doesn't it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Certain Point of View

**Author's Note:**

> A series of exactly 500-word vignettes x 5 points of view to tell the story.
> 
> This was my 2012 HP Darkfest Fic (hp-darkfest.livejournal.com) entry. 
> 
> My prompt for the fest was the image "Beauty and the Beast" by Henri Julien-FélixRousseau (artwork)
> 
> Thank you to my lovely beta, Unseenlibrarian! Thank you to the HP Darkfest mod for running this wonderful fest!

He was a beast. A rutting, disgusting, filthy beast!

Salazar's bane, why had she ever married him?

Running as fast as she dared in heels, Astoria fled down the carpeted hallway to the grand staircase, and up to her private bedroom in the East Wing. The door slammed behind her with the force of her anger, shutting out the world beyond.

Shutting out what she'd witnessed.

 

_Pounding, naked hips..._

_The oak desk jarring with each powerful thrust..._

_An ugly, animal lust twisting her husband's beautiful features..._

_The bitch's moans mingled with the vile sound of slapping skin and Draco's grunts and panting breaths to create a cacophony of noise that crowded the study…_

_The scent of sex perfumed the air, the stench offensive to Astoria's delicate nostrils…_

 

How could he? How dare he cheat after everything she'd given him!

Shoulders shaking, heart shattering all over again, her sobs poured out of her, loud and uninhibited. She collapsed to the floor, pulling her knees in and leaning all her weight against the door, and buried her head in her arms.

Circe's soul, she'd been such a fool to have stayed true to this marriage. She should have taken Daphne's advice and had off with Theo Nott, who'd made no secret of the fact he'd fancied himself in love with her since her seventeenth birthday when she'd, nearly overnight, blossomed into womanhood. But no, despite all her fears and misgivings, she'd remained pure until her wedding night, when Draco had come to her bed.

For the seven years since, she'd been a good, faithful wife. She'd learned the vital skills of beautifying, so she never left her room without looking six shades of lovely, and of courtly etiquette, so as to always appear attentive, courteous, and affable in public. She'd studied up on the art of love-making by reading books on the subject, and made her body available to her husband's use any time he wished, always assuring he was well-satiated and never muttering a complaint when he left her bed soon after the coupling had finished. She'd given her father's money, her heart, and her diligent efforts to helping rebuild the Malfoy reputation after the war, and had succeeded in reintroducing some respectability to their name.

Right, so she hadn't delivered an heir yet, but... damn it all, she'd given this marriage her all!

And that Slytherin bastard dog had taken the proffered gift of her fragile, sincere love and smashed it to pieces on a vain cunt like Hermione Granger. No,  _Weasley._  The woman had her own husband to fuck. So, why had she taken Astoria's?

Anger turned to despair in her chest.

She'd never be good enough. Draco would never love her back. "'Til death do us part" had all been a sham.

It was time to accept that their pre-arranged marriage should never have been. Tomorrow, she'd go to see a solicitor, and she'd be the first Malfoy in history to escape a loveless marriage through divorce.

* * *

He'd intended on joining his wife in the Music Room tonight, where he knew Narcissa tended to enjoy the early part of her evenings playing the fortepiano, but the sounds of rowdy, energetic sex caught Lucius' attention and brought him to a stand-still on the stairs leading down from his private wing of the house.

He  _tsk'd_ when he heard Draco's moans of gratification echo down the corridor.

Really, how gauche that his son would engage in such an open display of lust. Hadn't he raised the boy better than this?

Lucius headed in the direction of the action on stealthy feet, intending to chastise his son. This was still  _his_  house, after all, and such romping was to be confined to rooms with closed doors, at the very least!

As he stepped around the corner into the main hallway, to his surprise, he caught the briefest glimpse of his fully-clothed, clearly distraught daughter-in-law running away from the study. With pounding feet, Astoria hurried up the main stairs and away with nary a glance in his direction. The sounds of fornication continued from down the hall long after the sounds of her footsteps had faded away.

Lucius sighed and shook his head, drawing the obvious conclusion: his fool son had brought a mistress home, and in his reckless lust, he'd been seen by his wife. Tomorrow, there would be drama in the house, most likely involving raised voices, slamming doors, and threats. Definitely, it was time to sit down and have another chat with Draco. How many times had he told the boy that keeping a woman on the side was to be done with discretion?

As he neared the study to manually close the door, he was bitterly reminded again of his lack of magic. If only he had a wand, he could have performed this uncomfortable task from a distance and been spared the details, but no, the post-war Ministry had seen fit to take his wand in punishment, and he wasn't to get it back for ten years. The result was he'd probably get an eyeful of Draco's pale arse.

As he reached the study doorway, he stopped, astounded by the vision before him.

 

_Pounding, naked hips..._

_The oak desk jarring with each powerful thrust..._

_Draco's features appeared bestial and triumphant..._

_Beneath him, his witch's pain-filled moans, the harsh sound of slapping skin, and Draco's grunts and panting breaths merged together to create an unruly amount of sound that filled the study…_

_The scent of sex permeated the air, the smell strong to Lucius' finely tuned nostrils…_

 

Salazar's bane, were those... claws?

He glanced up again to his son's face, only to watch in horror as Draco's lips pulled back and wicked, sharp canines extended downward. The boy bent forward over his lover, ripping her shirt and exposing her throat. And then he bit down in the curve of her shoulder.

Please, Merlin, no! Not his Draco!

When the boy howled, Lucius' worst fears were realized.

* * *

She was his, at long last!

Granger's scent had been in his nose and boiling his blood for the last year, and now he was finally going to mingle their scents... and erase Weasley's from her skin for good.

His wolfish behaviour had begun the day he'd captured Greyback. Draco had thought the odd headaches and his increased sensitivity to light and smell a side-effect of having been bitten by Fenrir, but he'd been told it wasn't possible to contract lycanthropy outside of the full moon's cycle, so he hadn't panicked. That was, until his boss, Robards, had decided Draco just might be infectious and put him on suspension.

At his employment hearing, Granger had appeared to represent him. It had taken all of her legal wrangling to reverse the suspension and have his Auror badge returned to him, but in the end, she'd prevailed.

When she'd first shown up at his enquiry, he'd been impressed with her knowledge of legal precedent and trial procedure, and with the passion she'd so obviously felt towards defending the civil rights of victims. That wasn't what had captured his attention so thoroughly, though. It hadn't been her pretty, rouged lips or the adorable freckles that bridged her nose, or her forthright and sincere attitude, or even the way her eyes had flashed with righteous fervour as she spoke in his defence.

No, it had been her scent that beguiled him and set him on this course.

Her lush, feminine body had recently been bedded by another man – by her husband, Weasley. The knowledge of that had an irrational animal fury rolling over him. Thankfully, his Slytherin training reminded him to temper his feelings, especially if he wanted his job back, so he'd waited... and watched... and fought off his longing to go to her every full moon and to erase that foul stench from her skin by replacing it with his own.

He'd ignored the erotic dreams of her stretched under him, writhing and begging, and attempted a number of emergency distraction or incarceration techniques to force his arse to stay home during those days when the moon held sway over his emotions. He'd chained himself in the dungeons below the Manor with the help of his house-elf. He'd left the country. He'd taken potions to numb and dumb his senses. He'd bedded Astoria, and used his hand to alleviate the sexual tension. Nothing worked.

But this... this finally worked.

 

_Pounding, naked hips..._

_The oak desk jarring with each powerful thrust..._

_His face contorting in feral ecstasy..._

_Hermione's moans mingled with the sound of their slapping skin and his grunts and panting breaths to create a beautiful melody that filled the study…_

_The scent of their sex anointed the air, the aroma delicious and right to his receptive nostrils…_

 

"My beauty," he groaned, continuing to pound away, knowing from her scent that she was fertile, and hoping... hoping...

Regardless, she was his at long last, and he'd never let her go again.

* * *

Hermione's body was on fire.

It hurt! God, it hurt so much what Malfoy was doing to her!

She'd come to see him about possibly filing a discrimination suit against the Ministry - not for compensation, but just to establish a precedent for other victims of Magical Creature attacks, to assure the government would think twice before attempting to deny them their basic rights. He'd looked exhausted, ragged when she'd been shown into the study by the house-elf, but he'd perked right up the moment she'd stepped over the threshold.

As she approached, she noted his shaky hands... and then his glass of Firewhisky had tumbled to the floor, slipping through his fingers, and she'd gone over to help clean the mess.

That had been a mistake of epic proportions.

Kneeling at his feet, she hadn't seen him move, but she'd felt it when he'd grabbed her and dragged her up with an incredible strength, only to turn her and push her face down over his desk. He'd held her down easily with one hand, while tearing at her clothing with the other.

In complete shock at being unexpectedly attacked, she hadn't been able to move. By the time it registered that she should be fighting back, he'd had her clothing torn away, had mounted her, and pushed inside her body, thrusting with a powerful surge that drove her forward, harder into the wood of the desk.

 

_Poun_ _ding, naked hips..._

_The oak desk jarring with each powerful thrust..._

_She couldn't even see his face..._

_Her pain-filled moans mingled with the awful sound of slapping skin and Malfoy's grunts and panting breaths to create a confusing storm of noise that rang throughout the study…_

_The scent of sex perfumed the air, the fragrance alarming to her sensitive nostrils…_

 

Silently, she begged for him to stop, crying at the assault, feeling as helpless then as she had under his aunt's wand during her torture in this same house years earlier. Sharp nails dug into her hips, holding her still as he pounded away, raping her body... and destroying her faith in him.

How could she have been so wrong? She'd defended him!

He howled as he released into her, and she felt his disgusting seed splash hot and devastating against her unprotected womb. She'd stop taking the contraceptive potion a year ago, trying for a baby with Ron...  _Please don't let me get pregnant,_  she thought, sobbing as Malfoy tore her shirt from her and bared a shoulder.

He leaned forward and bit her, dooming her to share his fate.

She knew from Fleur that a man infected with a mild form of lycanthropy only bit a woman in such a place after sex to mark her as his mate.

Oh, God, she was never going to escape him now! The only divorce papers in her future would be the ones severing her from her husband, for the law was very specific on the case of Magical Creatures and their mates.

* * *

Sitting on the bench of her fortepiano, Narcissa paused to listen as the Mudblood witch was directed to Draco's study by their house-elf, just as Narcissa had earlier instructed the servant do once the woman arrived. She heard the woman's friendly greeting to Draco, followed by the  _'thunk'_ of something heavy hitting the carpeted floor, and then Mrs. Granger-Weasley was apologizing for whatever accident had just occurred as a result of her unannounced visit.

At least the girl was well-mannered. That was something in her favour, Narcissa thought.

A moment later, she heard their guest gasp in surprise. There was a rustling of feverish movement, and the unmistakable sound of cloth tearing. A high pitched shriek quickly morphed into a deep, pained moan, and the heavy slap of flesh meeting flesh could be heard clear down the corridor. Draco's loud, animal-like growling was pleasure-filled as he began mating the witch.

Narcissa peeked out the Music Room's doorway and glanced down the hall.

Oh, dear, her daughter-in-law was standing in the study opening, gaping. She watched as Astoria turned and fled quickly, heading towards the main staircase – probably to hide out in her room and cry. Not that she blamed her.

Well, that had certainly been an unfortunate coincidence. She'd hoped her son's wife would be spared the gory details of the ending of her marriage. Some things were simply not meant to be, however. Such a shame, though, as she'd rather liked Astoria.

Ducking back inside the Music Room, Narcissa left the door slightly ajar to assure she could hear if there were any issues that needed her personal handling. The sounds of her son's copulating grew louder, more wild as the minutes passed.

Truly, Narcissa loved her son – would do anything for him, obviously – but thinking of him as a sexual being (in this case,  _beast_ ) was unsettling. She still remembered him in nappies, sucking his thumb while he slept. He'd changed a lot since those days, though, most especially in the last year, since his attack. That time, she could not have prevented his fate.

But she'd been sure to save him from its negative repercussions once more... Her note to Miss Granger-Weasley earlier that afternoon, suggesting a lawsuit against the Ministry had been one of Narcissa's brighter ideas, she had to admit.

Well,  _something_ had had to be done about Draco's brooding, after all. It had gone on much too long, and the reason was patently obvious. Lycanthropes needed their mates. And really, the Mudblood was extremely well-connected - enough to even outshine Astoria's well-meaning attempts to bring the Malfoys back into their glory.

A minute passed.

Draco's triumphant howl roared through the house at long last, and things became eerily quiet after that.

Narcissa smiled as she turned to her fortepiano and began to play, knowing that in nine months' time, the heir they'd needed would finally arrive.

Yes, indeed, the Malfoys were about to crawl out of the mire of their exile at long last.

 

_**~FIN~** _

__


End file.
